


3E 380 11th Sun's Dawn

by Saquira



Series: The MoT Elder Scrolls 'verse [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saquira/pseuds/Saquira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She barely noticed the fireball that impacted with the summoners chest a moment later, because Mercator Hosidius had just knocked her of her feet and moved to kill her. But before he could do so, a silver dagger stuck out of his chest, and she crawled backwards with wide eyes as the man slumped to the ground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3E 380 11th Sun's Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on August 21st, 2012 on chorrol.com.

The female Breton barely had time to put up a shield before the male in the green doublet slashed at her with a dagger. She used her staff to shoot a frost spell at him as he and the other two necromancers closed in on her. A fireball, whose caster she could not see, engulfed one of them a moment later, but the other two were still approaching. The remaining necromancer in the black robe summoned a corpse that lumbered after her, and though the green-clad man was slowed down by the frost, he didn't pause in coming at her.  
  
She barely noticed the fireball that impacted with the summoners chest a moment later, because Mercator Hosidius had just knocked her of her feet and moved to kill her. But before he could do so, a silver dagger stuck out of his chest, and she crawled backwards with wide eyes as the man slumped to the ground. An imperial in brown and black finery appeared before her, and when she started he glared down at the woman by his feet. She gasped for breath as the man pushed the steward away, and another man came up – this one a High Elf – and took a hold around her arms to pull her up. She was still enveloped in shock when the imperial began to talk.  
  
“You impossible fool! What possessed you to think I would suggest a meeting here, of all places!?” he practically growled at her as he narrowed his red eyes. “At least your gullibility served some useful purpose. I knew about Mercator, but not his friends. Now none of them are a threat any longer. Despite what your council thinks, I've not joined the Necromancers and would never do so. You may pass along that message,” he ranted, not stopping until the other man put a hand on his shoulder. Then his rage abated some, and he realized that the woman was leaning away from him slightly in shock. There was no fear in her eyes however when he met them, and he blinked in surprise.  
  
“Well I'll beg your pardon then, for I know nothing of what you're rambling on about! Assuming you're the count, I've been sent to fetch a book you borrowed from the guild,” she said angrily as she glared at him. And this time it was the count who leaned backwards while the high elf standing behind him guffawed. The imperial kept on blinking with a stunned expression for several minutes before he managed to find his voice.  
  
“Then I'll ask you to forgive me, but I hope you realize that there is no book, and that you were sent to find out about my allegiance. You tell your council that the next time they want something from me, they come themselves. They don't send someone under false pretences.” She was no longer glaring when he finished. “I regret that Traven has involved you in this way. At least you've survived... for now. Perhaps in the future, you can be trusted enough to deal with more serious matters. Now, our business here is concluded. I suggest you return to your council.” The count straightened his clothes as he said this, giving her a curt nod before turning towards the city and walking away. The Altmer smiled at her and bowed down slightly before he followed the other man. She looked after them for a while before shaking her head to clear it – meaning she had to brush the black hair away from her face – and heading off in her own direction.


End file.
